A Series Of Sappy Cancerous Moments
by MissZatanna
Summary: Moment #1: Not the traditional Taste Test they had in mind. It was even better. And though Hazel was on time out for a little bit—crap lungs will do that to you—she had the best time of her life. And for once she was happy that her mom made her to go stupid Support Group with Patrick and his nut cancer, the List of those who weren't strong enough, and the Literal Heart of Jesus.
1. Taste Test: Take One

The day was kind of cold. Indianapolis summers were usually hot and humid, making clothes stick to bodies like couch potatoes stuck to couches. "What time is it?" She asked, staring at the sky. The sky had not been clear for a while. Sure the blue was still noticeable, though every once in a while—every once in a while being every three hours or so—the clouds would roll in and things would get a little nasty. But today, on this very particular day, it was warm yet cold at the same time. It didn't rain, so the ground was nice and dry as Hazel lazed on the big fluffy picnic blanket.

Though really, it wasn't a picnic blanket. It had been one of Isaac's old comforters for his bed when he was ten. It had Thomas the Tank Engine faces all over it. Frankly, any child would be scared. Hazel sure was. "You're blanket is kind of creepy," she commented, fiddling with her cannula because it just felt weird today.

Isaac sat beside her, legs crisscrossed over themselves and his cane folded into a very conveniently sized stick. It was nice today. Isaac was still recovering from everything—mentally. He seemed okay with it mostly. He cracked blind jokes sometimes when the moment was right. It was only when he was alone that he broke. It was inevitable, really. On the bright side of things, his other senses were starting to compensate for the one he had lost. Though so far, his taste was the only thing going for him. Others would start soon but not yet. And he seemed perfectly okay with it. "Hey!" He snapped. His tone was serious but it only made Hazel laugh a little more. "Don't knock Thomas the Tank Engine, dude. He's a legend."

Hazel rolled her eyes and realized he couldn't see it. She smirked and looked up at him. "I'm rolling my eyes now, Isaac," she stated.

She was sure he would roll his eyes right back at her if he could. "Ha ha ha," he deadpanned. "Stop making fun of the blind guy. I'm an invalid."

"Pfft, invalid my ass, at least your NEC now. I'm still dying here, thank you very much." She was kidding of course, but the two became silent. The only sounds interrupting the now awkward situation were the children in the background screaming and laughing as they played on the playground. Hazel took a deep breath—as deep as her crap-filled lungs would allow—and glanced at him. "I'm sorry, Isaac, that was—"

"Shut up," He smirked, dismissing the comment with a lazy wave of his hand. "Where is Gus anyhow?"

"Um…" She sat up—an action that took some of her breath away. Stupid crap-filled lungs, always ruining everything—and looked around. At the sound of his name, Gus walked towards them down the small hill from the parking lot. He carried grocery bags in his hands. Hazel smiled instantly at that familiar limpy walk. It was her favorite.

"Ah Hazel Grace, you have decided to help us discover the universe of senses!" He smiled ecstatically and set the brown paper bags on the blanket next to Isaac.

"You bought macaroni salad?" The very blind, yet apparently very scent talented, Isaac asked incredulously.

Augustus scoffed and put one hand on his hip. He had never looked sassier than right then. "Well dammit, Isaac, it was supposed to be a surprise."

"He's giving you the sassy hip hand," Hazel informed him. Isaac shrugged and nodded. He knew. Augustus was anything but predictable but on this very day, he seemed to be lacking his unpredictability.

Augustus shot Hazel a look before rolling his eyes before shaking his head, trying to hide his smile. Oh the ever optimistic Gus Waters. "Okay, Blind Man Taste Test Take One!" He yelled with a goofy grin that suited him perfectly.

Hazel raised an eyebrow and couldn't help but let a smile cross her lips. God, he was sexy. "Hazel Grace," her more than excited friend, who was holding a bow of something that looked absolutely revolting—Isaac would never forgive them for this—motioned to his backpack with his elbow while expertly setting the different containers of things in a neat line before the "invalid's" figure.

"Light me!" He ordered in a grinnish tone. Hazel chuckled and pulled the same old cigarette pack from the bag and was about to hand it to him when he smirked and opened his mouth just enough for her to insert one nicely rolled cigarette between his lips. He winked at her before turning to Isaac.

Augustus expertly set up a video-camera on a mini tripod next to him. The mini machine beeped a few times as he set it up.

"Hazel, tell me that's not a bomb," Isaac said. He was kidding, of course…right? "Because I know that Gus will lie to me."

She rolled her eyes again. Oh goodness, so much eye-rolling on this little outing today. "It's not a bomb," she deadpanned.

"Thank god."

"Oh calm down! Do you think I would kill you? I mean c'mon, you just sacrificed your sight to keep living. I'm not really that arrogant to make you have lost your eyes for nothing, now am I?"

"…I plead the fifth."

Now Gus's face was priceless. His mouth hung open, his cigarette falling from his lips onto the blanket. It wasn't lit obviously, so no park fires today! Without warning, Hazel gasped as she witness the scene. Augustus took a handful of what looked like green pesto and onto Isaac's head it went! The guy never saw it coming—literally.

"Guys, guys!" Hazel was frantic to find order here. She was wearing her favorite dress and was determined to not let a food fight ruin her perfect and cute outfit. God, she never sounded more girly. And it wasn't a minute later that she had black bean hummus dripping from her hair and onto her dress. "Oh, oh that's—" Another gasp escaped her lips as Isaac's hand met her cheek with some ranch potato chip dip.

"Looking real good, Hazel Grace," Gus managed to take a face full of gummy bears, efficiently catching some in his mouth and ended with chewing with his signature corner-mouth smile.

Not the traditional Taste Test they had in mind. It was even better. And though Hazel was on time out for a little bit—crap lungs will do that to you—she had the best time of her life. And for once she was happy that her mom made her to go stupid Support Group with Patrick and his nut cancer, the List of those who weren't strong enough, and the Literal Heart of Jesus.


	2. Don't Let Me Fall

She guessed it counted as a date. It wasn't like they were out at a fancy restaurant or anything. And as awesome as that sounded, she was kind of just happy with what they had: a bag of sour-patch kids, gummy bears, sugar coated gummy worms, and like a pound of Hershey's chocolate bars. And she was not sure if he was purposely trying to make her fat or just diabetic. Either way, it was definitely working.

"So, favorite actress," he said quietly, resting his head on the armada of pillows they had set up at the top of the mattress. Hazel's parents had let them use the air mattress to lie outside on. The hard rocky ground was not ideal for a date. Hazel had brought the plethora of pillows while he set them up. Her dad helped them blow it up while her mom went back inside for a few blankets. The night was warm and kind of muggy but still cold enough to need a cardigan or a light blanket. He broke off a piece of chocolate and popped it into his mouth.

Hazel scrunched her nose—something she soon regretted since it messed up the position of her cannula—and shrugged her shoulder lazily. She lay on the mattress next to him, one hand resting on her stomach and the other at her side between them. Her pinky held his in that cute puppy love couple way. It made her heart beat fast.

"I don't really have a favorite actress," she answered.

He shook his head before turning it to look at her. "You have to. Everyone does. Mine is Angelina Jolie. She's so badass, it's not even funny."

Hazel raised an eyebrow. "Mr. and Mrs. Smith was a good movie," she commented. See? She knew her action movies. Augustus nodded.

"I want to be like that when I get married," he said. His voice held a certain uncertainty. _If _he got married.

"Well, we're pretty badass at Counterinsurgence. I think we make a good team."

His eyes lit up. "Are you implying that we're going to get married, Hazel Grace?" He asked with a little more than a hint of optimism. He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

Chuckling, she nudged his hand and rolled her eyes. "No, I'm just saying we make a good team."

"Nope nope! Already said it, the deed is done!"

She laughed and turned to look at him. He had his signature cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. His too blue eyes were brighter than she'd ever seen them. Illuminated by the string of lights arranged in a square—they connected from the house to pedophilic swing set, then to the tree across from said pedophilic swing set and to the house again—his eyes held a certain excitement and happiness. One might even say elation. She loved his eyes. She loved _him_. He had once told her she looked like the _V for Vendetta _Natalie Portman. So. "Natalie Portman, I guess."

He nodded once and smirked, turning back to look at the sky.

Hazel stared at him for a few more seconds, noticing everything about him. His jawline—one hell of a jawline—tensed as he fiddled with the unlit cigarette in his mouth. She'd miss him. Cigarette, jawline, and all. Hazel would miss his entirety. Since she met him, she was a new person. She was happy. When around Augustus Waters, it was impossible to be anything but happy.

"Are you excited for Amsterdam soon?" He asked; his eyes were glued to the flickering stars. Then he commented absently, "I wish I could fly."

Disregarding the question, she latched onto his last comment. She never really thought of it. Flying, that is. It was always just a useless concept. There was nowhere to fly to. And if there was, her fluid-filled lungs wouldn't be able to make it that far anyhow. She'd be up in the clouds when her lungs decided to give out and down she'd go. Flying wasn't exactly a good idea to her. "It's like living on a cloud. I'd be afraid to fall."

His pinky tightened around hers, a sign of comfort. "I wouldn't let you," he whispered. A small smile fell across her lips. "I just wish that I could. I could fly to the stars. You see, out there, you can be anything. I'd be floating, cancer-less. Okay well not, cancer-less but still. There'd be no pressure on my bones, nothing to spur on my cancerous demise. It'd be great. I could be whoever, _whatever, _I want to be. Doesn't that sound great?" He asked, turning his head to her.

She was still staring at the sky. Yes, that did sound great. "Are you scared?" Hazel asked.

He smiled a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm not dying yet, Hazel Grace. You can't get rid of me that easily." He couldn't tell her yet. He couldn't tell her that he'd lit up like a Christmas tree, that he was that twenty percent. It'd ruin Amsterdam. It'd ruin their wish. She didn't smile.

He got quiet then. "I'm not scared more often than not. I didn't make my mark on this Earth. But like you said, you know me. And that's enough. When I die, I'll be in the sky with the stars. I'll be reading An Imperial Affliction and making up alternate universes for Anna's mom and the Dutch Tulip Man. I'll even think of something for Sysiphus." He swallowed. He was getting kind of tired, but he'd stay up. For her. Augustus moved his hand so it engulfed hers. No more puppy-love-pinky-holding business. He loved her. And he wanted to tell her. But he couldn't. "The only thing I'm scared of is not having you with me," he whispered.

Hazel stayed quiet. Tears rimmed her eyes just thinking about it. Don't cry, Hazel. Don't freaking cry. No no no. "Well, I'll will my cancer to hurry up so I can join you."

He didn't smile yet didn't frown. His face remained a blank slate. After a few minutes of silence he sat up, wincing slightly yet not letting her see. "C'mon, Hazel Grace," he said, grabbing his leg and placing it back on. Prosty was not fun to wear while relaxing or laying down. He stood up and smiled. "C'mon, up up up."

Hazel raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing, Gus?"

"Ahem, it is Augustus to you, thank you very much. Just stand up, trust me."

I do, Augustus. I do trust you. She stood slowly, untangling herself from her cannula. Hazel walked over to him, her oxygen cart in hand behind her. He held a hand out. "Dance with me."

She blinked. Dance? Did he forget that she had horrible lungs that would probably fill with cancerous fluid from standing too long? Hazel looked up at him, confused. "Um…"

"Just trust me," he said softly. She placed her hand hesitantly in his and he spun her around slowly. Bad move. He helped untangle her from the tubes.

"I'm going to fall or something," She said warily, resting one hand on his chest right above his heart. His was beating faster than hers. It sent a small surge of satisfaction through her.

Augustus was well enough to stand for a little while only his shoulder was hurting. But that was a few days ago. His cancer had been good to him then, left him alone to spend time with Isaac and Hazel without any pain. Hopefully the cancer would favor him for one more night. He pulled her close and wrapped one arm around her waist. Then he lifted her gently onto his Converse covered toes. He swallowed that the sudden pressure but it went away quickly. And suddenly, he felt nothing. Thank you, cancer.

"See? Now you can dance with me," he whispered, a hand settling on the small of her back as he swayed back and forth with her, resisting the urge to turn in circles. The oxygen tank kept him from doing that suave move. Suddenly some music started playing from the kitchen. The window had been open which allowed the tune to move through.

Hazel gritted her teeth. Did her mom ever not watch her? Though she wasn't noticeable from the window, it didn't mean she wasn't watching. Like a ninja, she was everywhere. Augustus smiled and looked down at her, swaying to the rhythm. The music was soft and flowing. She liked it a lot.

He had wanted to say something. About being scared of dying. He left a little part out. Finally, he took a small breath—not too deep in front of the girl whose lungs couldn't handle it; that would be just cruel—and said, "I'm scared that I'll die before I have the chance to tell you that…I'm in love you."

"Gus…"

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't," he answered, looking into her eyes.

Hazel remained quiet. Oh Augustus. She was a grenade. And he was too. It wasn't good for them; look what happened to Monica and Isaac. She didn't want him to get hurt. But all of this running through her head didn't stop her from doing something she'd wanted to do for a long time. She leaned up, careful not to crush his toes too much, and wrapped her arms around his necks, pulling herself closer to him. And she kissed him.

He leaned his head down, meeting her halfway. They kissed until they had to pull back to catch their breaths. Hazel hugged him, her head resting on his chest and his cheek against her hair. She whispered into his t-shirt with a tone akin to a sob, "Don't let me fall."

He kissed her forehead and pulled her closer, shaking his head against her hair. "Never."


	3. On A Roller Coaster That Only Goes Up

"Don't you think this is a little dangerous?" Isaac commented lightly. His mother sat comfortably with a book under a nearby pavilion. With his cane folded nicely in his lap and his two glass eyes hidden behind his dark-tinted sunglasses, the blind best friend resided on a bench, listening to all the sounds. Some children were laughing and giggling on the carousel and others chatted throughout the park about the many festivities.

Hazel snorted. "Has that ever stopped him before?"

"Well no... And he is NEC, so technically it's not as dangerous as I thought," he agreed. "But I still say no."

"I say yes," Augustus Waters commented proudly, smiling like a complete fool. But it was a cute smile nonetheless. Hazel loved his smile. And while she tried constantly to attenuate the contingencies, it was okay to like his smile. But she _loved _his smile, so maybe that wasn't quite okay.

The nice sunny day was quickly turning to gray and glum. Soon they would have to head home. The whole idea itself was stupid: going to an amusement park with a serious stage IV thyroid cancer (that had so inconveniently spread to her lungs that now sucked at being just that) ridden girl and a blind man. Smart move, Mr. Augustus Waters. Even without going on the rides—Hazel had never been an amusement park type of girl; courtesy of her sucking-at-being-lungs lungs—they were having a good time. Isaac as well; he'd gotten a three pound bag of gummy worms, which he shared with the rest of them, though reluctantly. Gummy worms equal happiness. And three pounds of them ultimate elation.

Isaac sighed a long sigh (he'd been sighing a lot lately, was that bad?) and gave a why-am-I-friends-with-you? head shake. "I always thought your roller coaster metaphor was just, you know, a _metaphor._"

Isaac wasn't jealous. Seriously, he said he'd rather gouge his eyes out with a fork. But considering that they were already gone, no need to do it himself. Of course the idea of Gus riding a roller coaster remained plain stupid and idiotic. But he was going anyway.

Hazel obviously couldn't go. Oxygen tanks, girls with craptastic lungs, and death defying rides didn't amount to 'good family fun' as the poster at the entrance of the park had promised. It had forever been the equivalent to bad and not fun.

"Well I'm going," Gus declared. "It is a metaphor, but when am I going to get another chance like this?"

That shut them up. He'd never been on a roller coaster before this. He was always too scared. (Augustus, scared? Pfft, that's like saying whales are purple. But no lie, he was scared. Like pee your pants and refuse scared.) With a chance of the cancer coming back, this could be the chance he had. So he was going to do it.

"I'll be right back," he promised with a smile before joining the line of other insane riders.

Isaac shook his head, popping another worm into his mouth. "He's crazy."

Hazel snorted and shrugged. "What else is new?" She stuck her hand into the bag and stole a gummy before fiddling with her cannula nervously. Gus was certifiably psychotic, that was a fact. But deep down, beneath the whole no-way-my-lungs-suck-as-it-is-let's-not-make-it-wo rse attitude, she wished she could be the same. She wished she could have the courage and the audacity to try and have fun. And more fun than eating gummy worms with Isaac, waiting for Gus to come bac—not that this wasn't fun—if he didn't die on the roller coaster first. Slurping another gummy worm into her mouth, she looked around.

Kids ran without worry that their lungs would give out. You can imagine her envy. Although, somehow she was thankful for her cancer. Of course, cancer isn't something to boast about at all, she knew that. But without this horrible intangible curse on her life, she never would have met Isaac or Augustus Waters. And that's one thing she never wanted to change.

After a little while, Gus came back, smiling like a fool. "That. Was. Awesome."

Hazel couldn't help but manage a smile. "Really?"

"Well, no not really," he admitted with a small shrug and a smile. "The roller coaster had technical problems before we got to the top. So we had to evacuate. But it was fun up until that."

Isaac would've rolled his eyes if he could, but he settled for a head shake a snort. "Only you, Augustus Waters, could have fun on a roller coaster that didn't even go anywhere."

"Like you said, you're on a roller coaster that only goes up," Hazel chimed in.

"Literally. Definitely coming back for it though."

Hazel Grace rolled her eyes and smiled up at him softly. Only Augustus Waters.


End file.
